by Glen Martin Fitch
One day a friend
sat with her mom (in-law) outside
to watch her toddler son at play.
"My son, at his age,
did that--
just that way."
At Grandma's words
she sobbed and
clamped her jaw.
Like no one else
a parent knows a child.
When young
a car crash
cracked her at her core.
She lost her folks,
their future and
their lore.
They would have seen her
in her boy
and smiled.
You've seen the things
that others have not seen.
You know my flaws
and fears
and when I lie.
Your presence makes me
humble, honest, clean.
Without your love
I wouldn't even try.
Attest my virtues.
Vouch my honesty.
Affirm my courage.
I ask, "Witness me."
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011